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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768274">The Wizard!</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyrmraker/pseuds/Wyrmraker'>Wyrmraker</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Spider-Man - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Intelligent Voldemort - Freeform, Lots of Original Characters - Freeform</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 00:42:45</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Underage</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>9,705</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29768274</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wyrmraker/pseuds/Wyrmraker</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Thanks to Pettigrew clipping the Tri-Wizard Trophy with a curse, Harry (and Cedric's corpse) land in New York City.<br/>Now in the City That Never Sleeps, Harry has to navigate a nation where superheroes, mutants, and robots are seemingly commonplace.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>38</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A British Wizard Has Landed</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry slammed into the ground, the Triwizard Tournament trophy having delivered him elsewhere yet again.  Gasping at what he thought was at least one cracked rib randomly spasming from more than one round of Voldemort's Cruciatus curse, he managed to get his head up and look around, his wand leading his gaze.</p><p>Dirty brick walls lined his eyesight, and at the end of the alley he could see cars passing by in the street.  Turning, he saw a few people walking past the other end of the alley.</p><p>Sighing shakily in relief, Harry looked down to see the corpse of Cedric Diggory peering sightlessly into the late afternoon sky, and beside him was the trophy, a slice gouged neatly from it's base it by whatever spell Pettigrew had cast.</p><p>Slowly, shakily standing, Harry managed to cast the Muggle Repelling charm around them.  Once it had settled, he chanted "<em><strong>Expecto Patronum</strong></em>."  Instantly, Prongs emerged.  After looking around for threats, the silvery stag looked to Harry.  "Stay here," Harry said.  "Underage magic detectors; they'll find us."</p><p>Elsewhere, an alarm was going off.  A fellow in a poorly fitted suit grabbed at the console before shouting, "We got a major pulse!  Something cast in a No-Maj zone under repelling charms within a minute after an unregistered portkey!"</p><p>"Where's it at?" a short man in jeans and a button down shirt demanded, reaching for his sneakers.</p><p>"It's... four blocks away?" the man uttered in a confused tone.  "Yeah, four blocks South of here.  Dead line.  Looks like an alleyway."</p><p>"Opinions?" demanded a firm, strident, feminine voice from another room.</p><p>"Could be someone pranking us," the console reader said.  "But it might also be a call for help.  It <em>is</em> under No-Maj Anti-Detect spells."</p><p>"Understood," she replied, slipping on a light jacket.  "Jameson, go fetch Jenkins in case it's a trap."</p><p>"Understood, Detective Heller," Jameson, the first person to respond, replied, running out of the room.</p><p>"Hicks," she continued, "keep monitoring the detection, and transfer command to Dispatch."</p><p>"Yes, Ma'am," Hicks replied, already adjusting the console to do so.</p><p>Five minutes later, Heller (a tall, blonde woman with a severe countenance) exited the Woolworth Building alongside a very black man in a finely tailored suit.</p><p>"What are the expectations?" the black man asked in an unnervingly flat, inflectionless tone.</p><p>"No idea," Heller replied as the pair jogged down the street.  "Some big thing, Hicks thinks it's a shout for help."</p><p>"I see," the man replied calmly, as if he wasn't exerting himself at all.</p><p>"I'll lead," Heller puffed out, "and you pull backup.  I know you're a liaison, but you can do that."</p><p>"Easily," he replied, not out of breath whatsoever.</p><p>Ten minutes later, Heller rounded the alley to see a massive silvery deer apparently standing guard over a pair of teenagers.  One was leaning against a wall, wand at the ready as his entire body would spasm slightly, while the other laid on the concrete completely still.</p><p>"Stop!" the boy against the wall called out.  "You don't want any part of this!"</p><p>Heller came to a halt before slowly advancing, wand still in her hand as she raised her badge.  "Sir, I am Detective Janice Heller with the Auror Department here in New York City.  We felt your magical disturbance and came to investigate."</p><p>Harry twitched slightly before slowly lowering his wand.  The light in the alley was good, but his glasses were filthy and spider-web cracked.  He could make out a figure, a blonde woman with an American accent.  Then his wand snapped up as another man seemed to melt out of a shadow and into the light.</p><p>His skin was the color of the night sky between stars, almost an absence of light.  His hair was close-cropped, and his facial features seemed somehow <em>off</em> to Harry.  "And him?"</p><p>"Leeroy Jenkins, Liaison between the Central Intelligence Agency and MACUSA Intelligence," the man replied in a smooth, inflectionless voice.  "And you are?"</p><p>Harry slumped against the wall, the facade of being in control having exhausted him, even though his wand was still raised.  "Harry Potter.  That was Cedric Diggory.  The trophy was a portkey that somehow landed us here."</p><p>"May I approach, Mister Potter?" Jenkins asked calmly, as if a wand pointed at him was of no concern.</p><p>Harry paused for a moment before saying, "Okay.  Come over.  But nothing funny!"</p><p>Jenkins calmly walked forward, motioning for Heller to stay where she was.  Quite deliberate in his motions, he examined Cedric for a moment before gently closing his eyes.  Then he turned.  Looking Harry dead in the eye for a moment, his gaze snapped to Heller as he said, "We'll need an ambulance.  Mister Potter needs to go to the Fulsom Clinic.  I would guess that he's been hit with the Cruciatus curse at least twice, and has other wounds that need treatment.  Mister Diggory is deceased.  We can bring him along; the Fulsoms have their own small morgue."</p><p>"Got it.  I'll call it in," Heller replied, turning as she pulled a radio out of her pocket.</p><p>Jenkins turned back to Harry, saying, "We are getting you to a local hospital that has a neurologist.  While we wait, is there anything you'd like to ask me?"</p><p>Harry stared at the silent, <em>empty</em> black eyes looking at him.  "You...  You're an auror, right?"</p><p>"Technically, I'm a federal agent.  Going by your accent, your equivalent would be MI-6.  But I am qualified as such, for the most part."</p><p>"So, if I tell you what happened, you can do something?  Tell someone in Britain?"</p><p>Jenkins hadn't blinked yet as he responded, "That depends on the information.  I have... regulations that can inhibit my capabilities."</p><p>Fifteen minutes later, the ambulance had pulled up to the Fulsom Clinic.  It seemed like a rather small place for a hospital to Harry, but that was an afterthought after telling Jenkins <em>everything.  </em>The Tournament, the graveyard, managing to grab Cedric and the Trophy, only for Pettigrew to cast something at it, and finally Harry casting the Patronus charm in the alley, the most powerful spell he knew, in order to get the attention of the Underage Sorcery sensors.</p><p>Heller had gone ahead as Jenkins escorted Harry into the clinic.  Harry saw clean, pale green walls with soothing pastoral scenes mounted on them.  In a corner was a couple of chests full of toys, with an eight foot tall bright green bear with a four-leaf clover on it's white belly.  On the opposite wall were a line of chairs leading to a desk.</p><p>From the back emerged a slender man with a somewhat prominent nose and rather swarthy complexion.  His hair was cut short, and he wore slacks, a button down shirt with a bow tie, and some sort of plastic shoes.</p><p>"Hello, young man.  I'm Frederick Fulsom, welcome to my clinic," the man said to Harry.  Looking at Jenkins, he asked, "What do we got, Token?"</p><p>"Multiple bouts of the Cruciatus curse, as well as small cuts, bruises, and one deep cut on his left arm that is still oozing," Jenkins reported.</p><p>"In the back.  What's your name?"</p><p>"Harry Potter, sir."</p><p>Harry was led into a sterile, partitioned room with an examination table.  Doctor Fulsom sat him down and began slowly drawing his hand over Harry, muttering the whole while.  "Multiple shallow cuts, two ribs lightly fractured, exhaustion, deep cut in left wrist narrowly missing the brachial artery, lockouts on endorphin releases, neural activity heightened, and...  That's weird.  Did you know there's something off about your scar?"</p><p>Harry's sigh was interrupted by another spasm before he answered.  "It's where Voldemort hit me as a baby.  Dark spells leave scars that can't be healed, according to the school healer."</p><p>"Hm.  Might have to call in a specialist," Fulsom noted aloud.  "Honey?  You'll want to get out here for this.  One for you."</p><p>From another section, a slim, short woman almost floated in.  Several inches shorter than Harry, four foot seven, clearly Asian, of extremely delicate build; Harry was certain that she couldn't have weighed more than ninety pounds at best.  Long, thick raven black hair fell to the small of her back, and her eye color was an unusual amethyst in shade (her expression was too cold to call it any other shade of purple).  Jaw-droppingly gorgeous in her own way, her build was quite thin, and yet there was an underlying sensuality about her.  She was dressed in dark grey surgical scrubs and the same plastic shoes as the doctor.</p><p>"Hello, young man.  I am Doctor Djhara Morgan.  Fred, what do we have?"</p><p>"Almost a minute of Cruciatus exposure.  I'm not reading any actual nerve damage here, so the standard treatment should be fine.  Token," he continued, turning to Jenkins, "we'll want to keep him here for a day or two for evaluation.  This was a particularly nasty spell, and I want to make sure there aren't any lingering effects."</p><p>Doctor Morgan slid up to the side of the bed, saying, "Alright, here is what is about to happen.  I am going to put you to sleep for a little while.  After that, I will be casting a spell to temporarily negate the pain center of your brain, as well as another spell to unblock the serotonin release of your brain."</p><p>"I... I don't understand," Harry admitted.</p><p>"Actually," Jenkins spoke up in his emotionless tone, "this is the best treatment possible.  The Cruciatus curse functions in two ways.  First, it directly stimulates the pain centers of the brain, effectively tricking the body into thinking it's being tortured.  Secondly, the spell also prevents your brain from releasing certain endorphins, which are natural pain relievers.  With no relief from the biology, the pain simply continues.  The tremors and spasms you are experiencing are a side effect of the paired effects, and can lead to long-term damage if left untreated."</p><p>"Correct," Morgan coolly commented.  "Due to the lack of functioning pain center, it is inadvisable that you be conscious.  You could easily injure yourself and not feel it."</p><p>"I think I get it," Harry replied, nodding slowly.</p><p>"Therefore, it is advisable that you accomplish anything that has a certain immediacy before I put you to sleep."</p><p>"Yeah, that sounds great.  So...  Mister Jenkins, how long before I can go back?"</p><p>"At least four days," Jenkins instantly replied.  "During that period, you will be here getting patched up, as well as being asked questions by our own investigators.  Relax, Mister Potter," Jenkins continued at Harry's frightened expression.  "The investigation will be primarily concerning the resurrection you spoke of, as well as how the portkey that brought you here happened to function.  Now that I consider, it would be best that you plan to stay here for at least two weeks.  Your accommodations will be taken care of; your current legal status will temporarily be Ward of the State.  And as soon as we can, the MACUSA State Department will be notifying the British authorities of what has occurred."</p><p>"Two...  I see," Harry mumbled, shocked at the revelation.  "If it's possible, could somebody get my stuff at Hogwarts?  And my owl?  Maybe a couple of letters to some friends of mine?"</p><p>"That could easily be done," Jenkins replied.  "It'll take a few days, but that isn't difficult.  The more data we have to work with, the faster can can accomplish the investigation."</p><p>Harry shuddered again, and through gritted teeth said, "Then would it be possible to do the spell work without putting me to sleep?  So I can get as much as I can out?"</p><p>"Mister Potter, you're exhausted," Fulsom sternly stated.  "You're in no condition to be doing much of anything."</p><p>"I'll deal with it," Harry answered, sitting up straighter through the current wave of agony.  "The faster people are warned, the better."</p><p>Morgan merely shrugged.  "I can do this.  However, one of my assistants will be in the room at all times to oversee your health.  It wouldn't do for you to be talking and accidentally bite through your tongue, after all."</p><p>"That's fair," Harry sighed in relief as the current spasm faded.</p><p>"Tybalt?" she asked into mid-air.  Instantly, a house elf in bright blue surgical scrubs materialized inside the small room.  "You are tasked with overseeing that this young man doesn't tax himself unduly or damage himself."</p><p>"I understand, Mistress," Tybalt replied, bowing low.  "It shall be as you command."</p><p>Morgan muttered a few words, and Harry almost passed out in relief at the sudden lack of pain.  In fact, he felt <em>amazingly</em> relaxed and generally upbeat.  "Wow.  Why doesn't the Hogwarts nurse use this?"</p><p>"Because idiot students would try to use it," Fulsom answered as he cast spells to heal Harry's cuts and bruises.  "The spell to dump endorphins directly into the brain can easily be used as a highly addictive drug; in fact, there are a few street drugs out there that will do exactly that, and they're *<em>a</em><em>ll</em> pretty addictive."</p><p>"I...  I see.  So, how do you want to do this, Mister Jenkins?"</p><p>Jenkins sat on a stool, pulling out a recorder and a notepad.  "We can begin with your statement and move forward from there.  Once your statement is complete, I'll have Djhara put you unconscious while I return to the office to submit the findings."</p><p>"Okay.  Sounds good.  How do you want to start?"</p><p>"Let's begin with Voldemort.  What manner of resurrection was used, and what your relationship is with the temporarily deceased."</p><p>"Well, it all begins on Halloween of 2006..."</p><p>Four hours later (and a call home to let his son know he'd be late), Special Agent Jenkins walked into the Woolworth Building.  Sheathing his own ability to just under his skin, he walked through the entrance for magicals.</p><p>Keeping such a tight reign over his abilities was incredibly taxing, but better than accidentally wiping out every bit of magic in the building due to his natural capability of magical negation.  Thankfully (for him and nobody else), the side effect of his negation abilities (an <em>extremely</em> limited emotional capacity) kept the strain from showing.</p><p>Entering the auror offices, he walked up to Detective Heller's desk.  Laying down his recorder, he simply said, "Harry Potter's witness statement."</p><p>The blonde woman sighed, leaning back in her chair.  "How bad is it, Token?" she softly asked.</p><p>"Bad enough that I'll have to call in a specialist," Jenkins admitted.  "Probably Ramirez.  He has a known track record of destroying false methods of immortality."</p><p>"And you're sure about this?  That Potter saw what he says he saw?"</p><p>"Yes.  He was under an endorphin release spell that simulates the effects of MDMA.  The ability to lie is inhibited under such an effect, and he strikes me as a poor liar, in any case."</p><p>"Damn," Heller replied, gesturing for him to sit in a chair.  "I take it you got more out of him?"</p><p>"I did.  Harry James Potter, born July 31, 2005.  He became the Boy-Who-Lived on October 30, 2006 when Voldemort's killing curse failed in it's task.  And he hates the fame.  I'm guessing that he wasn't aware of it growing up.  There were two confrontations with variations of Voldemort before this event.  I'm still sifting through my notes, and there is a great deal more that he hasn't said that I'd like to get out of him.  I also would not object to getting pensieve testimony from him."</p><p>"Fuck.  How do you recommend I put this to upstairs?"</p><p>He blinked for a moment, and Heller knew he was gathering his thoughts.  "If Voldemort has returned, having Mister Potter here as an Asylum Seeker would be appropriate.  Once your people go through the full testimony, I believe that the higher ups will be happy to do so.  And his pensieve testimony would be appropriate for them to bring this to the ICW.  For my end, I'll speak with my own people at Langley on how to proceed with this."</p><p>"Fine.  I'll pass this off to Hicks; he's been bitching about being on the Detection Board for too long."</p><p>"While it <em>was</em> his fault that he smacked the senator from Mississippi for trying to force through a law that would make all mutants listed as Dark Creatures, I read that bill.  It made the old Mutant Registration Act look like mandatory public school attendance."</p><p>"Which is why Beaumont put him on the Board," Heller groused out loud.  "Desked one of our best analysts to keep him out of sight."</p><p>"It could've been worse," Jenkins replied flatly.</p><p>Heller chuckled at that.  "Yeah, it could've been <em>you</em>.  At least you would've just shot him.  Probably on the Congressional Floor."</p><p>"At any rate, in regards to Mister Potter," came the smooth reply of Jenkins getting the topic back under control, "I informed him that he should count on being here for at least two weeks while our ends perform the investigation.  He did ask me to find a way to get his things from Hogwarts, as well as drop off a couple of letters to some friends."</p><p>"Shouldn't be hard," Heller admitted.  "We can get that done under the guise of informing their Chief Warlock.  I think he's still the principal of their school."</p><p>"Of course, the only question will be 'who will they be sending?', isn't it?" Jenkins asked.</p><p>"Oh, gods yes," Heller moaned out.  "Honestly, I'd rather they just send you rather than one of the limp-dick political flunkies.  Sucking congressional cock is about all they're good for."</p><p>Jenkins blinked at that.  "I take it that your date last week went poorly."</p><p>"For fuck's sake.  I wish I never told you about that," she groaned out.</p><p>Jenkins shrugged a shoulder in an obvious manner, saying, "Of course I care, Janice.  We were involved before... before."</p><p>"Yeah.  Before you got married and I joined the Force," she replied.  "I have to say...  Wait, aren't you <em>divorced</em> now?"</p><p>He nodded once, saying, "Three years ago.  Her mother never could let go of my origins in the ghetto, never mind that I'd had a position with the CIA for as long as I could.  It's literally the only job on my official resume."</p><p>"And of course, you're <em>other</em> work goes without saying.  I mean, you were seventeen when you bought a <em>fucking mansion</em>!  What the fuck else did the bitch want?"</p><p>"At least my prenup was ironclad.  Also, I'm having a get-together in a couple of weeks.  Like the old days.  Do you want in?"</p><p>"Seriously?" Heller asked, incredulity lacing her voice.  "You restarted that?"</p><p>He simply nodded.  "I'm a black man from the ghetto, Janice.  Don't I have a reputation to uphold?"</p><p>Heller's eyebrow rose at that.  "Token, you were absolutely monogamous for ten years, and have one kid because you believe in the power of 'Wrap It Before You Tap It'.  You don't have a rap career, a dozen baby-mamas, or a stable of hookers giving you money.  And you don't sell crack.  I think that your 'reputation' could use some boosting.  Are..." she paused for a moment before nervously asking, "Are any of the old crowd going to be there?"</p><p>He reached over, gently taking her hand as he answered, "Yes.  And they've been asking for you."</p><p>She smiled at that before nodding.  "I'll be there, work willing.  And God help the pathetic little shit who keeps me from getting my just due."</p><p>"That's the spirit.  Now if you'll excuse me, I have to make some calls to my people.  I've already informed Leeroy that I'll be late tonight."</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Whew!  Second fanfiction story!  Sadly, my brain won't let me move forward with Harry's Summer Vacation right now, but I got the idea for this after playing Spider-Man: Miles Morales on the PS4.  That's right, another 'Harry Coming Into His Own' story, but this one crosses into Marvel.</p><p>I plan to use the PS4 Spider-Man game as a foundational setting, since it's a generic enough Marvel setting to be able to get free-form with it.  In time, I'll be bringing in the X-Man, the Avengers, and so on.  As a fair warning: None of the movie material will be brought in.  This is all material from the comics, not Marvel Cinematic Universe or the Xmen films by Fox.  Just the comics, and on no particular storyline.</p><p>Also, I have moved the date.  The end of the Triwizard takes place in June 2020.  Hopefully I have gotten the basic math right in adjusting Harry's birthday and such.</p><p>Readers of Boy Who Was Homeless will no doubt recognize Djhara.  This is the full power version of her.  The full-blown Cauldron of Hate.  And I'll write her accordingly.</p><p>Leeroy Jenkins, AKA Token is another one of my old game characters.  He's a direct port from the old World of Darkness setting.  He's designed as a natural negator, and in WoD he has mastery over Paradox Spirits.  In Marvel, he basically has the same powerset as Artie Leech, but with more range.  There are side effects of his negation abilities, however.  He has 4% of the emotional output of the average human; where one person would be screaming and beating someone to death in a blind rage, Token will crease his brow slightly.  He is indeed pitch black, 'the color of the night sky between stars', and has a 100% symmetrical body and face.  He has almost no body language, and in face can smile without the rest of his face moving (which looks more like teeth-baring than smiling).  Lastly, when he speaks, he speaks in Times New Roman 12 point font.  That is how unemotional he is.</p><p>As always, constructive comments and criticisms are welcome!  Please, let me know what you liked and what you didn't!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. To Gringotts!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Malfoy Manor</p><p>Sitting on a conjured throne, the entity known as Lord Voldemort glowered.  "So, you're telling me that Potter made his escape, but did <em>not</em> arrive at Hogwarts."</p><p>"Yes, my lord," Severus Snape replied from his kneeling position.</p><p>Looking around the room, he asked, "My Death Eaters, can any of you hazard a guess why something like this might have occurred?"</p><p>Peter Pettigrew raised his hand warily.  "My Lord?  This may have been my fault," he offered, his voice full of fear.</p><p>"How so, Wormtail?"</p><p>"When I saw that Harry was about to summon the trophy to himself, I cast a cutting curse at his arm.  I believe that I hit the trophy instead," he cringed out.</p><p>Voldemort stood stock still for a moment, considering before nodding.  "An excellent attempt, Wormtail.  Severing Potter's arm before he could take hold of the portkey <em>would</em> have worked.  But if you hit the portkey, he could have landed anywhere.</p><p>"Lucius, find out through your Ministry contacts where Potter ended up.  as soon as he is located, I want to know."<br/>--------</p><p>The next day, Harry woke up to a very filling breakfast of something he'd never heard of nor experienced: a Reuben.  As it turned out, the Fulsoms were a blisteringly happy married couple with a son and a pair of house elves.  Mrs. Fulsom went by Doctor Morgan because all of her early work was published under her maiden name, and it was common practice for a female with a doctorate to continue to use her maiden name in a professional capacity.</p><p>The house elves were there as (mostly) employees and family members.  Their primary jobs were to attend to the cleanliness of the surgical theater as well as sterilizing the instruments.  Mainly working at night, they ate meals with the Fulsoms, received pay to fund their hobbies, and had their own rooms.  Harry felt that these were quite possibly the best treated house elves in the world.  Mrs. Fulsom owned them, and treated them exactly like family.</p><p>Their son Daniel was quite upbeat and pleasant, if a little intense.  The mix of Japanese and Jewish features gave him a pleasingly exotic look, and he had his mother's eyes, which could be described as a proper purple because of their warmth.  He was Harry's age, and he and Harry spent a couple of hours chatting.  They compared notes about their schooling (Hogwarts versus Midtown High, with magical at-home tutoring), friends (Daniel had two solid friends that he saw as brothers who lived in Westchester), and hobbies (Daniel enjoyed pick-up games of basketball, target shooting, and urban exploration).</p><p>Later that day, Detective Heller came in and got pensieve memories from Harry.  Anything that could be used to investigate, Harry gave up to her.  Harry ended up giving several dozen hours' worth of memories.</p><p>Three hours later, Harry leaned back heavily in his chair, clearly exhausted.  "I heard that pensieve testimony wasn't allowed in court."</p><p>Heller smirked at that.  "In Britain, sure.  Here, not at all.  Of course, here we don't have huge voting blocks of old money types keeping evidence from becoming legally admissable."</p><p>"Huh.  Didn't think of that.  My friend Hermione spoke with a friend of ours whose aunt is in the Aurors.  She said that it was illegal, and her aunt fumed about it a lot."</p><p>"Sounds about right," the detective replied as she finished labeling the memory vials.  "So, one last question, Mister Potter.  Are you interested in claiming political asylum with MACUSA?"</p><p>Harry blinked at that.  "I'm... not really sure why or how I'd do that, ma'am."</p><p>"Well, you <em>are</em> fourteen.  Not a lot of teenagers outside of the Usual Suspects would know anything about that."  She sighed, no longer fiddling with the vials.  "Basically, you could request it because of active terrorists known to be targeting you.  The Death Eaters would naturally see you as their enemy, right?"  Harry nodded at that.  "And with Voldemort back, it will only get worse.  Therefore, Jenkins has discussed this with both magical and non-magical State Departments, and both agreed to offer this to you if you want it.  And if you don't, we can easily take you back to Britain when we deliver Diggory's body.  It's up to you."</p><p>"I think..."  Harry paused for a few moments.  "I think I would like to apply.  I'll need my stuff from Hogwarts, and access to Gringotts.  Do they have a branch in America?"</p><p>"They have one here in the city.  Harlem, I believe.  Personally, I get all my money taken care of through a no-Maj bank, but that's me.  Anything else you'll need from Britain?"</p><p>"Maybe drop off a few letters," Harry admitted.  "And hopefully getting Sirius out of Britain."</p><p>"We're looking into that one," Heller replied, smiling.  "Go ahead and write your letters.  We should have an agent in Britain within the week.  Also, make a list of your things, and I can make sure our agent collects it all."</p><p>Two days later, Doctor Fulsom declared Harry fit enough to travel, while his wife prescribed a regimented diet for the next couple of days.  Harry had never felt so rested and safe while he was at the Fulsom clinic.  The one nightmare he'd had had been interrupted by the house elf Tybalt, and restful sleep followed from there.  </p><p>A man walked into the clinic, hands down the most handsome man Harry had ever seem.  He was tall, a full six foot, three inches.  Broad shoulders, flawlessly proportioned limbs, a ruggedly handsome face, and short, stylishly cut dark red hair.  He was dressed in casual slacks and a light button-down shirt, the top three buttons undone.  Even his shoes were stylish.  An outright heart-throb that belonged on the pages of fashion magazines and in A-List movies.</p><p>Walking up with a friendly smile on his face, he stuck out his hand, saying, "You must be Harry Potter.  I'm Gerard Keller.  Token asked me to take you to your bank."</p><p>Harry shook the proffered hand, saying, "Token...  You mean Mister Jenkins?"  At Keller's nod, Harry said, "Thank you, sir.  I really appreciate you going out of your way to help."</p><p>"It's no problem.  I was heading into Harlem today anyway.  Token called around to see if any of us were going that way.  Hey Djhara," he called towards the back of the clinic, "is Harry here cleared?"</p><p>Mrs. Fulsom stepped out with a less stern expression on her face.  "Yes, he is.  It's good to see you again, Gerard.  We'll have to get caught up some time."</p><p>He just smirked at her.  "You just want me to bring more of the wine from Francesca's vineyard."</p><p>"Guilty," she admitted calmly.  "But I also want to know about the rest.  Fred's phone number hasn't changed in more than thirty years.  You have no excuse."</p><p>Djhara went back into the back, and Gerard turned to Harry.  "So, you ready to go?"</p><p>"Yes, sir," Harry responded, blinking at the casualness of it all.  "I don't think it'll take too long."</p><p>"Yeah, but we're driving in the middle of the day," Gerard retorted in a friendly manner as he led Harry out the door, "in Manhattan, to a range of just under a mile."  He stopped, gesturing around.  "Right here is known as the Upper West Side, right on the edge of Harlem and Hell's Kitchen.  Your bank is on the other side of Harlem," he said, gesturing to the East.</p><p>"So," he continued, getting into a <em>very</em> nice convertible, "we get to go for a relaxing, scenic drive."</p><p>Harry frowned, getting into the passenger seat (on the <em>wrong side</em> from what he was used to).  After they buckled up, Gerard pulled smoothly into traffic, commenting about the local features as he went.</p><p>"So way over there is the tallest building in the city, Avengers Tower.  They're the only ones with clearance to fly aircraft in New York, especially after 9/11."<br/>"Down that way is Central Park.  A lovely place, and the homeless people there tend to be pretty friendly.  Just stay clear at night."<br/>"Over here is where they're building Roxxon Plaza; it's supposed to be some revolutionary new electricity generation spot.  Personally, nobody has seen the unadulterated design specs, so I have <em>no</em> idea how they got it approved with the government."<br/>"Right there is Teo's Bodega.  You need most things ethnic for the hispanic and black community, Teo has it.  Really nice cat, too.'</p><p>Then Gerard did something unexpected.  Reaching into a bag, he pulled out something wrapped in paper and tossed it straight up.  Harry's eyes tracked the parcel, and then Harry blinked in shock as a figure in red and blue swung by on a rope, grabbed the sandwich some thirty feet in the air, and swung off around a building.</p><p>"What was that?" Harry asked breathlessly.</p><p>"That was Spider-Man," Gerard stated, a hint of pride in his voice.  "Local superhero, not in it for fame or money.  Some of us figure that since he doesn't do it for the cash, he's probably hungry all the time.  And web-swinging probably burns a <em>ton</em> of calories.  So we help where we can, y'know?  And he'll thank me on his social media feed."</p><p>"And the ropes?  He fired a <em>rope</em> out of his hand!"</p><p>Gerard grinned at that as he took a left turn.  "Artificial, organic webbing.  I've been trying to reverse engineer the stuff since he first popped up seven or eight years ago.  Part of it's the compound, part of it's the caster he uses.  Strong, sticky, and dissolves after about an hour.  Guy goes through the stuff like crazy.  We think he's got a sponsor or something, except that nobody's come forward claiming that, <em>especially</em> with Jameson dogging him in the news."</p><p>"That was so cool," Harry gushed out a bit.</p><p>"And we're here!" Gerard exclaimed, pulling into a parking space.  He got out, paid the meter, and led Harry into the subway.  Harry followed as the man led him through a few side tunnels, and then stopped at a grating.</p><p>"This is the entrance to the Wanded Magical Quarter," Gerard began.  "Local magicals tend to do their esoteric shopping here, and their grocery shopping up top.  Remember, it's never a bad idea to have a mix of dollars and dragots.  Err, the American galleon," he slipped in at Harry's visible confusion.</p><p>"Makes sense.  Doctor Fulsom said that most people just go to the shops for most things, and go to the magical shops when they need specialized things."</p><p>"Exactly correct," Gerard replied, pulling the grating aside.  "Due to overdevelopment, New York's magical district is fairly small, but it doesn't need to be as big as, say, Diagon Alley.  Welcome to the Steward Catacomb!"</p><p>Harry looked out to see a massive chamber.  The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of dark sandstone, and a stretch of the stone blocks on the roof of the room were somehow glowing, bathing the entire underground street in light.  There were three lanes leading from the entrance, each of them lined with shops, stalls, tents, and small pavilions where sellers hawked their wares.  Each lane was maybe a hundred meters long, and the ceiling was maybe twenty meters high.  The entire chamber was seventy meters across.  Peering around, Harry spotted to his left what looked like a very small version of Gringotts carved into a different sort of stone.</p><p>Following Gerard, Harry passed by the motto engraved into the bronze door, entering a much smaller, much more modern version of the Gringotts in London.  Mechanical adding machines replaced the abaci, and a few actual computers were present for the three humans behind desks.</p><p>Harry walked up to one of the goblin tellers, saying, "Good afternoon, sir.  My name is Harry Potter, and I was hoping that there was a way to get to my vault without my key."</p><p>The goblin frowned, looking down on the teenaged wizard.  "No key, no access," he growled out.  "This is a security requirement.  Come back when you have your key."</p><p>"Except that that isn't quite the case," Gerard's smooth voice came from behind Harry.  Harry was witness to the goblin turning slightly greener even as his eyes widened.  "Mr. Potter has accidentally entered the United States via a malfunctioning portkey.  The MACUSA State Department has offered him political asylum, and he has accepted.  His stuff is still in Britain, so he needs access to his account.  I <em>know</em>," Gerard continued, leaning over top of Harry at the goblin, "that there are alternative methods of determining an account holder's identity.  Therefore, I <em>recommend</em> that you follow the procedures."</p><p>"I... understand," the goblin reluctantly admitted, grinding his teeth a little.  "You do realize that the fee for the test-"</p><p>"Will be waived," Gerard smoothly interrupted, sliding some papers across the counter.  "This is the official Political Asylum paperwork.  MACUSA State has verified his identity, and would... <em>appreciate</em> Gringotts being helpful during this difficult time."</p><p>Harry was just barely keeping himself from trembling.  Gerard's sheer <em>presence</em> was rolling off of him, and the goblin was not enjoying the situation.</p><p>"Your sort don't get to interfere here, Keller," the goblin ground out.</p><p>"No?" Gerard asked with a small smile and a slight chill in his voice.  "Would you prefer Jurgens, then?  I know that she's been waiting for an excuse to come back here.  And she's MACUSA State Department.  Would you like me to fetch her?" he continued with a slight mocking challenge in his tone.</p><p>The goblin snarled before catching ahold of himself.  "That won't be necessary.  Mr. Potter, please follow Gobrot to the conference room.  Keller can wait for you in the lobby."</p><p>"No, I think I'll accompany him," Gerard commented firmly.  "After all, Mister Potter has only been in America a few days.  He may have questions that need answering.  Questions that <em>some</em> people won't answer to <em>everyone's</em> satisfaction."</p><p>The goblin teller said nothing, but his expression said <em>everything</em>.  The indicated goblin Gobrot stood behind the desks, looking quite confused.  Harry was a little confused as well.  He's never seen a goblin so smooth-skinned and youthful, with a very pale green complexion.  Harry had also never seen a goblin whose hair wasn't white or gray; Gobrot's hair was a touch lighter shade of red than Gerard's.  But the goblin gestured at the pair, and led them to a door at the end of the teller stations.</p><p>A few minutes later, Harry and Gerard were being seated in a generically appointed room.  It could have been a conference room from any 80s movie, it was so generic.</p><p>Gobrot took a seat, saying in a melodic voice, "Mister Potter, I don't know what was happening out there.  Mister Keller, an explanation, please?"</p><p>As Harry almost gaped at the musical, very feminine voice, Gerard smiled, saying, "You must be new here.  Have you heard the tales of New York's Usual Suspects?"  Gobrot nodded at that.  "I'm Gerard Keller, one of them.  Jurgens is another.  There are about a dozen of us, all currently highly placed in society.  Back when we were in school, we had dealings with Gringotts, and none of them were pretty.  Gringotts had a nasty habit of trying to use it's outdated banking rules on people in modern society.  We took umbrage at that, and decided to take matters into our own hands.</p><p>"Contrary to popular belief, Gringotts is <em>not</em> indestructable.  Since they were messing with specifically <em>my</em> money, my friends and I weren't having it.  Some sort of investment screwup between Gringotts and the four banks that I was going through.  Anyways, when I needed the capital for one of my investments, suddenly it wasn't 'available'.  It was tied up in some investments in Britain during Voldemort's era.  Turned out that my money was being used to fund foreign terrorists.</p><p>"Long story short, we offered to cripple Gringotts, Gringotts laughed at us, and so we blew out some of the support in the lower levels.  This did a lot of damage to the funding that the Death Eaters were enjoying, and when we offered to do it again to completely finish the job, Gringotts 'suddenly' had all of my money, and demanded a contract saying we'd never do that again.  We refused the contract, told the Board a solid 'maybe', and left.</p><p>"Ever since, Gringotts has been leery of us.  They have no idea how we got into the lower levels, no idea how we got out, or even how we pulled it off.  All they knew is that if we did it once, we could do it again."</p><p>"But if you took down Gringotts, wouldn't that cripple Britain and Europe?" Harry asked, confused.</p><p>"Probably," Gerard replied, shrugging.  "But think of it like this.  Britain relies exclusively on Gringotts to manage their economy.  Gringotts handles all of the money, the tax levies, grants, loans, government budget spending, <em>and</em> the minting of money.  In America, the government does all of that.  Gringotts is just a bank here, mostly for people from foreign countries."</p><p>"I see your point," Gobrot inserted in her musical voice.  "Basically, you're saying that in Britain and Europe, Gringotts has too much power, power that should be the stead of the government."</p><p>"Exactly correct," Gerard confirmed.  "And if they were going to mess with my money, <em>any</em> of our monies, then the Board needed to be aware that we were going to mess with <em>them</em>.  Of course, we did end up having to come back three years later.  Token was <em>not</em> amused to hear that a bank had taken out contracts on us.  And his own position in the CIA should've protected him from that."</p><p>Gobrot's eyes grew wide at that.  "The Great Purge," she whispered, awe filling her voice.</p><p>"Is that what they called it?" Gerard asked curiously before shrugging.  "Huh.  Anyways, we decided to get together and organize what we called 'a teachable lesson'.  We went in armed in London, and started making our way to the Bank Board.  I honestly don't think we could have made it out if the Deep Ones hadn't showed up.  I heard that they somehow emerged from the pit water runoff sections.</p><p>"Once we dealt with the Board, we fought our way further down, meeting the Deep Ones in the middle.  Those poor security forces were <em>not</em> expecting what we brought to the party," he continued, eyes misty in reminiscence.  "Advanced martial arts, massive amounts of firepower, exploding throwing knives, both holy and demonic sorceries...  And then the Deep Ones, invited there for a feast."</p><p>Gerard shook his head, throwing himself out of the reverie.  "At any rate, Gringotts now has to deal with us when we come in.  And for the most part, we only come here on government business."</p><p>"But, you brought me here,” Harry pointed out.  “Is that really government work?”</p><p>“Sort of.  You see, Token is a government agent; mostly data analysis these days.  Maria Jurgens is the current head of the MACUSA State Department.  Both of them have an interest in your case, Harry.”</p><p>Harry frowned at that, saying, “I could see it if one of them took me here.  But what do you do?”</p><p>“You’re what, fourteen?”  Harry nodded at the question.  “Ask me again for the full details when you’re sixteen.  For now, let’s say that I’m a biochemical engineer who’s made a heck of a profit and name for himself since being tossed out of his house at your age for coming out of the closet.”</p><p>“I guess I can live with that.  So, what is this test that I’m supposed to do?”</p><p>“It’s a verification test,” Gobrot answered.  “Since your magical signature has been on file since you first entered a branch of Gringotts, we can easily test to make sure you are who you say you are.  The fee tends to be rather, well, extortionate.  The fee was put in place to keep people from misplacing their vault keys.”</p><p>“How much is the fee?”</p><p>“You’re British, so to you it would be one hundred Galleons, plus an additional twenty for a new key.  At this satellite location, we don’t actually have access to the vault system, so any withdrawals would be the main branch removing the gold from your vault even as a teller hands you the money from a drawer.”</p><p>“Pretty much the usual way banks have been operating since forever,” Gerard commented.</p><p>“What do you do here, Gobrot?” Harry asked curiously.</p><p>She sighed, saying, “I’m mostly a runner.  I run to get paperwork, deliver memos, and so on.  Today I am escorting you two to and from a conference room.  I used to be in the Security caste, but my work in stabilizing the interactions between paperwork and digital media on the coin money levels got me promoted topside.”</p><p>Gerard smirked at her slightly sour tone.  “Seems more like you made someone look stupid, so you were ‘promoted’ to a spot outside of your specialty.”  Gobrot merely hung her head at that.  “Too many companies do that shit.  I’m sure you’ll figure something out, y’know?”</p><p>At that moment the door to the room slammed open, and a well-dressed goblin angrily strode in, two fully armored goblins behind him.  The door had caught Harry’s attention, but out of the corner of his eye he saw that Gerard had kicked his chair out, and was hunched down at the table with a handgun already aimed at the lead goblin.</p><p>“My name is Gofflem,” the lead goblin stated, sitting at the table as if Gerard wasn’t pointing a gun at him.  “I will be administering Mr. Potter’s identification test.”</p><p>“Sounds good,” Gerard stated, the handgun not wavering.  “I do recommend that you send the security force out.  Wouldn’t want to send the wrong message, yeah?”</p><p>Gofflem sighed before waving his hand.  Instantly, the two armoured goblins turned and left, gently closing the door behind them.  Gerard holstered his pistol at his back before taking his seat.</p><p>“Now that the dramatics are dispensed with, let us begin,” Gofflem began.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Oof.  Took me a while to chew on this.  It's a two-parter, but it helps get the setup established.</p><p>Also, I plan to run a second section parallel to this where I list the notes of the various completely new characters.</p><p>And yes, the so-called Usual Suspects ARE capable of taking on Gringotts.  Imagine a group like the X-Men versus the bank, and you'll have a fair idea.  Mix in some extreme genius, some esoteric sorcery, and a bunch of skilled firearm wielders, and suddenly they are a legitimate danger to an unprepared group.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. An Explanation of Recent History</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>"Now, the testing for identity.  Mister Potter, are you prepared?"</p><p>"Not really, sir," Harry admitted.  "I've never done anything like this before.  In fact, I have no idea why everyone just accepted that I'm Harry Potter without some sort of ID."</p><p>"Hrm.  Not sure that I care, but it stands to reason," Gofflem stated.  "Where is your key?"</p><p>"In my trunk at Hogwarts, sir.  A damaged portkey accidentally dropped me in New York during the Tri-Wizard Tournament."</p><p>"Ah.  Yes, I can see how that might happen.  Between the damage, and all of the portkey use last year thanks to the Quidditch World Cup, it's little wonder that you were delivered far off track.</p><p>"At any rate, the test.  Wrap your hand around this crystal."</p><p>Harry took ahold of the offered length of quartz, the grip-smoothed length feeling icy in his palm before growing hot.  Gofflem promptly snatched it out of his hand and then peered into the side of it.  "Harry James Potter, Vault 687.  Confirmed," he stated, noting that down on some paper he'd laid before him.  "So, will that be all?" he almost demanded.</p><p>"If I may," Gerard interjected, "perhaps Mister Potter would like a bank statement?"</p><p>"That's a good idea," Harry said, nodding.  "If I could get that, I would very much appreciate it, sir."</p><p>Gofflem snarled at that, but did produce a sheet of paper with numbers on it.  "This is your current vault balance and contents list.  As you can see, there are 74,312 Galleons, 12 Sickles and 14 Knuts.  Several larger pieces are in there as well, and are not appraised; their values are unknown."</p><p>Gerard leaned forward, reading the page upside down.  "There seems to be a lot of deposits and withdrawals happening there."</p><p>"The deposits are from L.C.A. Comics, who print the <em>Harry Potter and Friends</em> children's book and comic series.  Withdrawals are an unidentified, but authorized user.  Bizarrely, the user withdraws a thousand Galleons on the first of the year, and then redeposits the same amount in July.  If I had to make a guess, the user was keeping the vault active following the deaths of the Potters."</p><p>"Makes sense," Gerard murmured.  "So Harry, what do you want to do with this information?"</p><p>Harry blinked at the question.  "I think I need to find a place to stay.  The Fulsoms are great, but I can't exactly live in the clinic.  And their apartment is perfect for three, but four would be a bad time.  More than that, I don't know.  I guess I'll figure something out once I get my stuff from Hogwarts."</p><p>"I get you."</p><p>"Will that be all, Mr. Potter?"</p><p>"I think so, yes.  I'll make my withdrawal at the counter.  Thank you for this, Mister Gofflem."</p><p>Gofflem merely grunted before gathering his paperwork and leaving.</p><p>"That was rude," Gerard commented.  "I mean, you'd think that they'd want to stay on your good side with how much you're worth.  Even with me here, they should have been polite to you, Harry."</p><p>"It's the goblin way," Gobrot spoke up with a sigh.  "Goblins of the Nation are all raised to despise 'lesser life forms'.  The bank rules make matters far more convoluted than they need to be, and it's for the sake of inconveniencing people.  Member of the goblin species don't have to deal with any of the rules, just non-goblin customers.  I don't think it works very well here in America, but I'm just a gopher, you know?  And I'm an American-born goblin, so the traditionalists aren't going to listen to me."</p><p>"Sounds like you need a new job," Gerard said, standing up.</p><p>Gobrot rolled her eyes at that.  "Oh, like <em>that's</em> going to go over well.  The Statute here is strained enough as it is.  Can you imagine someone who looks like me was walking down the street?"</p><p>Gerard shrugged at that.  "We have gods, aliens, and mutants walking around New York.  The mutants known as Morlocks live in the subway system, and the synthezoid known as Vision regularly goes grocery shopping for the Avengers.  Anywhere else might be a problem, but here?  This is New York City!  You might catch some comments, but you'd get treated mostly like anyone else.  Just say that you're a mutant with dwarfism, and your mutant power is photosynthesis."</p><p>Harry was still sitting down, going over the numbers and trying to make sense of them.  "So, someone has been keeping my vault active.  I'll have to find out who so I can thank them.  But all of the deposits...  I just can't get my mind around it all."</p><p>Gobrot slid the sheet over to herself, looking it over.  "It looks like you have an average of a little over a thousand Galleons a year in income from L.C.A. Comics.  You'll want to write them to find out what the contract terms were.  You'll also want to get those pieces appraised when you get back to England; some of them may be enchanted."</p><p>"That makes sense.  Thank you, Gobrot.  So, about how much am I worth?  In Pounds or Dollars."</p><p>"1,857,800 Pounds, or roughly 2.7 million Dollars," Gerard instantly delivered.  "A pretty good nest egg, but not something to retire over.  I mean, someone <em>could</em>, but they'd run dry of cash after a decade or two."</p><p>"Investments would be prudent," Gobrot murmured.  "This much capital not being used is almost criminal."</p><p>"I... have no idea what to do with this information," Harry admitted.  "Gobrot, thank you for guiding us.  Gerard, are we ready to go?"</p><p>"Yup.  Let's get to the counter so you can grab some money.  And then lunch."</p><p>Twenty minutes later (and Harry once more thanking Gobrot) found Harry and Gerard at a little place in Harlem that served a fusion of Southern Soul and Mexican cuisine.  As Harry ate his chimichanga (that horribly burned guy in the hooded sweatshirt was right.  These were <em>delicious</em>), he considered his day.</p><p>"This is a right mess," he murmured.</p><p>"That's life for you," Gerard replied, taking a bit of his enchiladas.  "But now you have cash and access to your money.  Later on you can grab the train if you need anything.  The only thing you really have to worry about is where you'll be living."</p><p>"Yeah.  I've been thinking about that.  I've got the money, so I could...  Damn, I;'m too young to buy a house or something, aren't I?"</p><p>"Interestingly, it is not illegal in the United States for a minor to own property," Gerard answered with a grin.  "If it was, a lot of us in the Usual Suspects would've had a rough time in our teen years.  However, I <em>can</em> recommend that you not buy something here in the city.  The real estate prices are <em>crippling</em>, not to mention property taxes.  Trust me, I speak from experience."</p><p>Harry slumped at that.  "So my best bet is... what?  Go back to Britain?"</p><p>Gerard shrugged.  "Not entirely sure, man.  You get along with Daniel, yeah?"  Harry nodded, his mouth full.  "Ask him for ideas.  He's a local, and he crawls all over the city.  If all else fails and arrangements fall through, he is your best bet for anyplace to squat at while stuff comes around"</p><p>"You sound awful comfortable telling a fourteen year old how to be homeless."</p><p>"I was homeless at your age," Gerard mildly admitted.  "My parents kicked me out for being gay.  I was only homeless for about a month before a friend of mine took me to her house.  I stayed with her and her parents for almost six months until I got my emancipation.  Since I already had a shell company held by one of my teachers, it was really easy to get myself set up from there.</p><p>"As for you, you got political asylum from what is essentially two governments.  If you want, I can ask Maria, who is the head of the MACUSA State Department, to look into your situation."</p><p>"I would really appreciate that.  It seems like a lot of people are doing a lot of work on my behalf, and I'm just not wrapping my head around why."</p><p>Gerard chuckled at that before taking a sip of his juice.  "Politically, you are a <em>very</em> hot commodity.  There was that mess with the Tri-Wizard tournament, and all of the bad press you got.  Tack that atop the Boy-Who-Lived drivel, and suddenly your voice counts for quite a bit.  Add in whatever you gave up for evidence, and suddenly a lot of people want to make sure you're safe.  It's a combination of political maneuvering, national preparation, and doing the right thing."</p><p>"I guess I'm not used to that," Harry admitted.  "It's reassuring that <em>someone</em> is finding a use out of helping me, and I'm kinda glad that they aren't using 'doing the right thing' by itself.  The thought makes me paranoid."</p><p>"I get you.  You don't want to feel like you owe someone something."</p><p>"Something like that, yeah.  Hey, change of subject, but while we were driving, I saw a <em>lot</em> of rickety looking stuff on top of buildings.  That can't be legal, right?"</p><p>Gerard sighed, setting down his drink.  "About a month ago, New York City finally managed to open back up after the Devil's Breath fiasco.  Some nutcase cracked open a container holding a bio-weapon over Times Square.  And this was in the wake of Fisk getting arrested, the gang known as The Demons taking over in the power vacuum, and several super villains rampaging.  While the Devil's Breath was getting released, The Raft supermax prison got cracked open, so suddenly we had to deal with several hundred convicted felons.  </p><p>"On top of all that, Mayor Osborn somehow got legal clearance to hire Sable International to 'assist' in the policing of the streets.  Sable is basically a mercenary army.  To sum up, until the cure for Devil's Breath was found, we had to deal with escaped convicts with no morals, escaped super villains, The Demons, the remnants of Fisk's organized crime syndicate, <em>and</em> a professional, private army all armed with concussion rifles and fitted with advanced body armor."</p><p>"So, a real mess."</p><p>"Yup.  Those structures you saw?  Various groups of convicts would take over entire city blocks to demand 'tribute', and built the walkways and shacks to keep watch as if the block was a castle or something.  City services are <em>still</em> working on getting everything up to code, and the Damage Control corporation is working overtime."</p><p>"That's...  Wow," Harry whispered, completely shocked.  "How did the Fulsoms handle it?"</p><p>"By working triage and helping whoever they could," Gerard stated definitively.  "I don't think either of them caught more than a couple hours' sleep a day.  And I know that Daniel and his friends were running supplies through the sewers and subway maintenance tunnels."</p><p>"They didn't get attacked or anything?"</p><p>Gerard laughed at that like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard.  "Oh, some people tried.  Locals knew better, and the convicts from New York warned their friends.  No, it was Sable International troops that tried to shake them down for medical supplies.  Djhara went freaking <em>nuclear</em>.  Fred, he's the quiet one.  Djhara is the one that'll fire lightning bolts down the street while being enveloped in a sphere of electrified solar plasma; she's been that way as long as I've known her.  Daniel showed me the video later.  It...  It isn't even for people with strong stomachs, man.</p><p>"Of course, the fun bit was Daniel.  While his mom was distracting them, got into one of the APCs and managed to snag the communications codes and one of the onboard computers.  People can say what they want, there's <em>no way</em> all that time Daniel spends at Token's house is wasted.  Because after that, young gangbangers began taking down vehicles, storing them after disabling the GPS tracking systems.  I heard that once Tombstone gets out of jail, he's probably going to make a mint selling fully armored vehicles on the black market.</p><p>"Of course, Daniel kept several items for himself.  A small arsenal of weapons, a couple of jetpacks, a couple of APCs.  Not sure where he keeps it all, but I know his parents too well to <em>not</em> know that he's got the stuff stashed away.  All that UrbX he does keeps him knowledgable on where the best hiding spots are."</p><p>"Wow.  But at least things are normal now, right?"</p><p>Gerard shrugged at the question.  "Define 'normal'.  I mean, where were the Avengers when all that was going down?  Why did it come down to Spider-Man and the locals to deal with this stuff?  Hell, where was FEMA when the Devil's Breath virus was released?  Nobody came into or out of Manhattan until the cordon was lifted, and that was three weeks <em>after</em> the cure started being distributed.  Where was everyone?</p><p>"So 'normal' is a really loose term here.  We've had alien invasions, fights between gods, super villains, hell a few times <em>Galactus</em> showed up!  Also, normal is not a word I like to use for any city in which Deadpool pops up regularly.  You'll have to ask other people about him; I don't know much."</p><p>"That... is a lot of information."</p><p>"Yeah.  I was in Sicily when all that went down.  I made sure my friends knew where to pick up supplies, since I knew they'd already had pre-established routes in and out of the city.  There wasn't much else I could do."</p><p>"Does anyone else know more about what all went on?"</p><p>Gerard considered that for a moment.  "Spider-Man would, but he was in the middle of it all from beginning to end.  That reporter Watson might; she seemed pretty in-the-know.  Mayor Osborn of course, but he's always been a slimy dick about pretty much everything.  Daniel would be a good source, along with Leeroy and Chuck Jr.; all three of them were in and out of the city.  As good as brothers, really.  Apart from that, nobody I can really think of."</p><p>A couple of hours later, Harry was back at the clinic.  Daniel led him upstairs, asking, "So how did it go?"</p><p>"I did not know that Mister Keller was such a bad-ass," Harry commented.  "Apparently he and his friends put the Fear of God into the goblins at Gringotts a while back."</p><p>Daniel smirked, nodding at that.  "Yeah, Mom was in on that.  So was Aunt Gwen, Tiny, and Uncle Joe.  Basically, a dozen super-powered and magical teenagers went in there to sort out the issue.  Imagine the X-Men versus Gringotts."</p><p>"Anyways," Harry continued, "I got access to my money once Mister Keller intimidated them.  At least Gobrot seemed nice.  Never saw a female goblin before."</p><p>Daniel's eyebrows rose at that.  "Wow.  A female in the bank itself?  That's rare.  Anything else?"</p><p>Harry kind of shrugged, saying, "Just some general history.  Like the Devil's Breath thing."</p><p>"Cool, cool.  Say, what're you doing this weekend?"</p><p>"I honestly have no idea.  I'm still trying to figure out where I'm going to stay."</p><p>"That's fair.  So if nothing comes up, you want to do a little exploring with me?"</p><p>Harry blinked at that.  "Exploring... what, the city?"</p><p>Daniel smirked a little.  "Not quite.  Exploring the city takes time, and time is something you don't really have.  There are abandoned subway lines, ancient maintenance tunnels, old aqueducts from the founding of the settlement of New Amsterdam.  Wandering through all of that takes years, and knowing people who know things.  No, I have a different target in mind: Fisk Tower."</p><p>Harry sat down on the couch in the cozy apartment.  The decor was somewhat minimal, but all of the furniture was very comfortable.  "Why Fisk Tower?"</p><p>"Because a few months ago, the police finally managed to arrest Wilson Fisk, the so-called Kingpin of Crime.  Spider-Man brought him in, and now he's in The Raft.  But between super villains and the Devil's Breath, nobody is focusing on the hidden portions of Fisk's headquarters."</p><p>"And you think it's a good idea for two teenagers to just wander around the place?"</p><p>"Sure.  And I can teach you how to use a climbing and rappelling harness.  C'mon, please?" Daniel begged.  "Dad won't let me go solo, and the bros are all out in Westchester right now.  I <em>really</em> want to do this.  I promise that it'll at least be an interesting Saturday."</p><p>Harry rolled his eyes at his new friend.  "Fine.  So long as it's safe, I'm in.  But I'll need to be taught the basics before we go."</p><p>"Oh, I can do that," Daniel enthused, grinning a little manically.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Gobrot was originally created as a character from offscreen in The Boy Who Was Homeless.  In that story, she invented the Pensieve Sandbox, which Harry invests in.  That version also has nearly weaponizable bad breath.</p><p>This version is a smart person, and is meant for IT support rather than being anywhere near the lobby.  She is also a proper shortstack goblin.  Her business suit (men's cut, by Gringotts regulation) hides most of that.  I will be making use of her later.</p><p>Ahhh, Gerard Keller, AKA G.K., AKA the Gay Kid.  Biochemical genius, self-made billionaire.  I'll be writing him up in the notes.</p><p>As always, comments are criticisms are ALWAYS welcome!  Tell me what you did and didn't like!</p>
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